A Narcissist's Sentiment
by ixamxyourxdisease
Summary: She didn't know then as she stood there, none did, that the world was about to spin out of control. Though at the moment none thought of the future, only the past. They had all gathered together, unknown to them, that this was the day that started it all.
1. Prelude

**Prelude**

Thunder clashed overhead, but it paled in comparison to brass horns sounding out their sorrowful melody and drums pounding out a slow but steady march. Soon it was altogether muted by the cries of rifles and pistols.

Rain fell upon the crowds of citizens of Bowerstone that stood: outside their homes, in the streets, outside factories and their businesses. All bowing their heads; all showing their respect. Even within the castle walls, all were out in the rain. Servants, nobles, and guards alike stood silent in respect to the passing casket.

In that moment all of Albion was entirely unified. For Albion had lost their leader, their queen, their hero. Sparrow had passed leaving the world in darkness. All of Albion was in mourning.

But none mourned more so then the small child whose tiny trembling hand clenched that of her elder brother's. Her ice-green eyes were bloodshot and puffy. Continuously she rubbed them, trying to wipe away the tears as soon as they formed. She cared not that she cried out loudly; that she seemed unruly in that moment. She had just suffered a loss far greater than any she had before.

Gaining what little strength she had left, she gazed up. She watched as the coffin passed. Walter, the long time friend of her mother's, along with several others, were carrying the casket to the tomb where her father laid encased. Jasper, their kind old butler, was following behind; he carried something that was of great importance to her mother, though neither she nor her elder brother, Logan, knew of what it was. Across from her she peered, with watery eyes, at the nobles. Some were dabbing their eyes, others quietly blowing their noses. Her gaze swept over them slowly. She would have normally found their white or pink powdered wigs humorous, but right now she found herself angry at them; they were too bright for such a moment. The sky and world found it within their power to darken the clouds and silence the birds; why couldn't they take those monstrosities off? At least they had the common sense to wear dark clothing.

She watched them noticing that all of them, every single one, had their eyes closed. All, except one. A man. One that she was warned, along with her brother, to never tolerate or take seriously.

Reaver.

Her eyes looked him over from bottom to top. He wore white, it figures he'd be the one to do so to a funeral. She grimaced. Reaver was leaning against his cane, a pose of superiority and indifference. She began to scowl. Slowly she peered up at his face, half expecting him to be smirking. To her surprise, he wasn't. His eyes were open and he watched the casket pass, his lips were straight. The expression on his face almost serious. He held his hat over his heart; he was the only one, of those she could see, that allowed the rain to fall freely upon his head. His dark brunette hair was drenched and plastered to his forehead.

She found herself in admiration for the cruel narcissist. He was the only one, who stood motionless before her, that held any real respect for her mother.

Lightning flashed, drawing her from her thoughts. She noticed that tears had been flowing freely from her eyes and had stained her cheeks. Quickly she looked down and wiped them away while tightening her grip around Logan's hand.

He looked down at her, his raven hair matted against his pale face. In that moment he and his sister shared a common emotion for the first time.

Sorrow.

It burned deeply within him, but unlike his sister he dared not reveal it. For he was king now. He was meant to be the beacon of light in the darkest of times, much like his mother. He knew that his people would look to him for guidance, and that he would have to do anything and everything to ensure Albion's safety.

They both watched as Jasper slowly descended down the stairs. The funeral march continued, still battling it out against the thunder.

She shivered, the rain soaking her to the bone. Slowly, he knelt down beside her and looked her straight in the eyes. He had never understood his sister, mostly due to the large age difference, and usually when she would cry he would scold her, but this time was different. This time he would allow her to cry as much as she needed.

Her body began to tremble, due to the cold and her emotions. He watched for a moment before wrapping his arms around her and lifting her up.

This signaled the end of the funeral procession. Everyone began to disband and separate. They all remained silent as they did so, and many were still wiping their eyes and blowing their noses. She watched them all through blurry eyes, her auburn hair matted against her face as well. Through rain and tears she saw him again.

Reaver.

The tall sharpshooter was walking with several others. He made no attempt to speak to them or they to him, the look on his face revealing he wouldn't bother with them anyway. She eyed him as he walked away until, that is, something caught his gaze.

Her.

He returned her stare, curiosity quite evident in his eyes. Cocking his head to the side, he grinned and removed his top hat. In one swift movement he bowed to her and replaced the hat then pointed his cane to her, before tipping his hat with it. All while keeping that smug smirk.

"My condolences. It's regrettable that I was never able to shoot her for all the trouble she caused me." His eyes gave a slight hint of sympathy.

She rubbed her eyes in disbelief and looked back at him. His eyes showed nothing more than they had before: amusement and ego.

He tipped his hat once more and sauntered off.

She scowled and wanted to scream, but held it in. Instead she sighed and laid her head down on Logan's shoulder allowing her tears to flow. Part of her hoped that she would never see him again. That part of her also never wanted her brother to put her down.

The other half...knew better.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

As the years passed by, the young princess slowly realized how accurate her assumption was that stormy day. Logan, of course, had to let her go, but he seemed to do so in more ways than one. He was still overprotective, telling her she was no longer allowed to leave the castle, but he constantly seemed agitated with her presence, often begging her to quit pestering him. On the other hand, she took solace in the fact he grew this way towards everyone, but he was more distant to her than ever before.

Instead of scolding her when she set the chickens free in the kitchen or painted the statues in the garden atrocious colors, he merely sighed and went about his day. Instead of giving her a single, if patronizing, chuckle when she dressed Jasper in a lacy blue bonnet and matching ensemble or when she and Elliot, who at the time were drenched and covered in suds, ran throughout the castle chasing after her puppy, Kain III; he simply stared at her and returned to his "War Room". His eyes would pierce into her, belittling her, dissecting her...as though he was searching for some form of maturity. She realized at a young age that Logan would probably never be the big brother that held her and comforted her that awful day. It was hard, but she came to terms with this saddening thought.

However, there was one thing she believed that she would never come to terms with.

Reaver's presence.

It was not long after her mother's funeral that Reaver showed up in the throne room with a small proposition. The princess could not believe her brother would accept anything from the very man their mother had warned them about, but just because she couldn't believe it...didn't stop it from happening. The plans were written up, the deal was sealed. Reaver was now in charge of all the industry in Bowerstone. At least her brother kept in mind their mother's warning and was intelligent enough to not give Reaver full access to use everything at his disposal. That would have made matters worse without a doubt. Unfortunately because of this, Reaver spent every possible moment he could at the castle trying to convince Logan to reconsider. And every time Logan refused, Reaver would retaliate by bothering someone else...namely the young princess. It was because of this that she sometimes welcomed Logan's trips and voyages. When he wasn't around, neither was Reaver.

"Princess Syeira? Are you paying attention?" Jasper's voice broke through her thoughts.

She peered over at him, tearing her gaze from the small black dress she had worn only once and never dared touch again; she shook her head and gave him a small smile. He sighed slightly and rubbed his brow before walking over and laying out her clothes for the day.

"Master Elliot is waiting for you in the library. Please choose what you would like to wear today. And," he set out several more outfits. "What you wish to wear to tonight's masquerade ball."

"Tonight? Ball?" She looked at him confused and sat there for a moment pondering the event she obviously had forgotten.

"Do not tell me you have forgotten your own birthday." The old butler remarked with a small chuckle as he set out some shoes.

'That's right...' she thought and sighed. She was fifteen as of today.

Slowly, she made her way over to the outfits and ran her fingers over the laces and bobbles. Such elegant dresses were never her fancy, but she would never make the mistake of showing up to a party or social gathering in her everyday wear. She knew all too well what her brother would say, what her rebuttal would be, and what punishment he would incite. And knowing all this took the fun out of being a rebellious little princess.

"Little one, are you alright?" Jasper's voice once again brought her out of her thoughts.

She nodded and smiled slightly before grabbing up an outfit for the day and changing behind the dressing screen. She gave an exasperated sigh as she tossed over a bodice, hitting Jasper square in the forehead. Ducking her head out she smiled brightly at him.

"Oops, sorry." She said before returning to her dressing.

"It's quite alright; I'm used to it by now." He commented and began straightening up her room.

Several minutes later she emerged from behind the screens and patted her leg slightly, calling Kain to her side. He jumped up and licked her face several times before she laughed and gently pushed him off. With that she gave Jasper another small smile before walking to the door.

"What about your-" he watched her walk out, her smile turning to a smirk, and sighed. "That girl."

She may not have been willing to repeat a poor ensemble for special occasions, but she was willing to try out being late to her own party. Logan was currently off in Aurora somewhere, she could probably get away with it...maybe.

***X*X***

After taking a quick detour, stopping in the kitchen to sample a bit of frosting from her cake, she made her way to the library where Elliot was waiting for her. He was sitting on one of the tables staring at the statues in the corners of the room. Once he spotted her, he jumped down from the table and strutted over to her. Kain intervened and pounced on him making sure to leave slobbery kisses all over his face.

"Okay, okay!" Elliot laughed.

"Aw, he likes you." The princess cooed and gave him a small grin.

"I'm glad." He was finally able to calm the dog down and began to wipe the slobber away. "If he didn't, I'd have a difficult time getting close to my favorite princess." He looked at her and grinned devilishly before both broke out in laughter.

This was how it always was between them. Ever since they first met when a boy named Percy tried to kiss her when she was a young girl and Elliot stopped him saying it "was an insult to her honor". They were the best of friends, and often they would joke about being closer. Syeira, naturally, did not mind thinking of Elliot as more than just a friend. He was such a cute kid who had grown into a handsome sixteen year-old, and he was sweet and respectful to her. They enjoyed each other's company and had always caused trouble when they were younger; actually they still caused trouble, if an opportunity presented itself. She often wondered what it would be like to hold his hand or to kiss his lips, they looked really soft from what she could tell, but she feared what may come of it. What if he rejected her, wishing to remain friends? It's difficult to have such a friendship when there is that kind of knowledge weighing down on them. Or what if they tried it, only for it to end badly; she didn't want to do anything to jeopardize their friendship. Little did she know that Elliot felt the same way. He loved watching her read or write; she always placed her fingers to her lips when she was concentrating or in deep thought. He felt very deeply for her, but he feared the outcome...the possibility of rejection.

Quickly both shook the thoughts from their minds and grinned at one another.

"So, my dear Syeira, what shall we do today?" He asked leaning against a table.

"Weren't you the one who was waiting for me?" She raised an eyebrow and gave a small chuckle.

"Doesn't mean I planned anything beyond that." He smiled and stared at her intently. "Oh, I heard your brother returned from Aurora today."

Syeira looked at him slightly shocked; she hadn't received word of his return. She didn't know why he was back so soon, but she knew it wasn't because of her birthday.

"Is that so..." was all she dared to say before sighing and grabbing Elliot's hand. "Come on; take a stroll with me in the garden." She smiled and dragged him out of the library.

***X*X***

"Please quit struggling." Jasper huffed.

"S-stop! J-Jasper, it's too...too tight!" The young princess cried.

"Only a little more to go, I promise." He responded.

"J-Jasper! Just-" she panted heavily. "Just tie the damn th-thing!" she hollered, causing Kain to sit up and peer at them.

Jasper quickly finished tightening her corset and tied the ribbons in a simple bow. He simply shook his head and took a step back.

"If you had chosen an outfit earlier, I would have had time to inform one of the maids to be present to tighten it for you." He turned to the small table and grabbed up a small black hairpiece and began to fix her hair. "They are gentler, and used to aiding you with these types of things."

Syeira cursed under her breath then examined her appearance in the mirror to her right. This outfit was one of the few she really liked. It was a cerulean blue masquerade gown, extending farther in the back than the front, which ceased just below her knees and reveals some of the black lace beneath. What was interesting about this dress, unlike her others, was that the corset is meant to be worn over the dress and not underneath it. The corset was a cerulean blue as well, with black lace atop it. The dress possessed off-the-shoulder sleeves, causing her to look more mature with her shoulders and clavicle exposed. Around her neck she wore a black choker that had a crystal shard dangling from it.

Taking one last glance she turned to face Jasper who handed her a black lace mask to match. Carefully, she placed it on trying not to mess up her makeup and looked in the mirror once more. Maybe she'll be lucky and no one will recognize her until she was forced to stand before the crowd so that they may congratulate her, wish her well, and hope she has another healthy year. She sighed staring at her reflection. Jasper took note of this and gazed at her.

The child, no the teenager, before him had to grow up far more quickly than others. She is constantly being trained and tutored. When she does have time to herself it is interrupted by Reaver, or else Logan is in one of his moods...which in turn dampens her own.

Logan.

He was the main reason she had to grow up more quickly than should be asked of a child. He never seemed to have time for her. He was always reprimanding her, scolding her; but he suddenly changed. Yes, the old butler could see this change. The weight of the world was on Logan's shoulders, but that was no excuse to distant himself from the one person who could possibly aid him. And yet through this separation the princess remained strong. That was something he always admired about her. Syeira was rebellious and a bit ignorant, but she was strong willed, charming, and usually goodhearted. Traits she definitely inherited from her mother.

"Jasper?" A soft voice sounded, drawing him from his thoughts.

He looked down at the fifteen year-old staring up at him. Giving her a small smile, he gently patted her bare shoulder and opened her bedroom doors, the night sky and a light breeze greeting him as he did so.

"I believe it's time that the birthday girl went to her ball." Jasper smiled once more and gently took her hand and led her down the stairs to the library entrance. "You wish to slip in unnoticed, correct?" He gave her a knowing glance before bowing and walking off.

She watched the kind old man walk off and smiled slightly to herself. Indeed she wanted to go unnoticed for as long as possible.

Taking a deep breath she prepared herself and headed towards the dance hall. She hoped that Elliot would be easy to spot, even with a mask on. To her dismay, as she entered the hall, she could barely tell the servants from the guests.

"Joy..." she muttered before beginning her search.

Syeira looked around before spotting Sir Walter Beck drinking ale and talking with a large group of people. Though he attempted to dress for the occasion, the outfit didn't seem to fit him, and even with the mask she could tell by his hearty laughter that it was her friend and mentor. However, she feared that if she were to go over and say hello that it would reveal who she was, and so far no one had noticed she was even there. Watching him a little longer, she continued her search, making her way over to where the orchestra sat playing. There she stood in hopes to have a better view of all the guests.

"May I have this dance?" A familiar voice questioned from behind her.

Quickly she turned around, there standing before her was a tall man who was adorned in crimson red and gold, and a white mask, but for all the familiarity of the voice she couldn't place where she knew him from. She looked him over again and still couldn't place him in her memories, and yet she felt as though she should have been able to. Sighing, she gave up and peered into his eyes. The chocolate brown orbs drew her in, and without much thought she nodded.

He took her by the hand and led her to the middle of the dance floor. Bowing slightly, he placed a hand on the small of her back and grabbed her hand firmly in his. The music began again and they began to waltz. At first she found herself blushing from his proximity, but she quickly collected herself and peered up at him. He wore a small smirk and his eyes seemed to flicker as he stared back at her. Once more she felt her cheeks warm and she looked away trying, in vain, to hide her blush.

"Why so bashful, princess?" The man whispered, leaning in closer to her ear to do so.

Her eyes widened. Whoever he was, he knew who she was.

"H-how?" She stuttered slightly.

"After all this time together did you honestly think I wouldn't be able to pick you from a crowd, even with that beautiful little mask?" He chuckled and pulled her closer as they continued to dance. "Honestly, my dear, that is a compliment. I wouldn't have bothered if you weren't as beautiful as myself." He smirked.

That was all she needed to hear and see to know who it was that had her in his arms.

Reaver.

She attempted to pull away from him but he held her fast and drew her even closer.

"Now, now. Mind your manners." He chuckled.

"What do you want Reaver? My brother has returned, or so I'm told, why not go bother him?" She whispered with a snarl, avoiding his gaze at all costs.

"Ah, but I have, my dear." Reaver responded as he twirled her around and pulled her close again.

"Is that why you're tormenting me? Because he refused you again? Serves you right." She scoffed and once more tried to pull away, but to no avail.

"On the contrary, my little Syeira, he was the one who invited me here." He smirked. "To inform me that I am now able to use _whatever_ is at my disposal to increase profit."

She peered up at him in horror. Logan couldn't have possibly done such a thing, then again...he wasn't suppose to return so quickly from Aurora.

'What happened to make him change his mind?' Syeira pondered as her feet stopped moving.

Looking at him, she grimaced at his expression. He was pleased with her shock, her horror, she could tell.

As the music died he took a step back and brought her hand to his lips, kissing it tenderly. He began to walk off before he suddenly turned around and bowed his head.

"Ah yes," he spoke loud enough to be heard. "Happy birthday, princess." A smirked edged its way onto his lips and he turned disappearing into the oncoming crowd.

She wanted to scream, to command one of her guards to lop off his head, but before she could say or do a thing Walter grabbed her arm and dragged her to the front. There everyone wished her a happy birthday and another healthy year.

* * *

Disclaimer: (forgive me I forgot this in the Prelude) Fable III belongs to Lionhead Studios and Peter Molyneux respectively.

Sidenote: Syeira is the name I chose for the princess for two reasons. 1. It is Gypsy for "Princess", considering Sparrow spent her childhood amongst a Gypsy camp I believe it'd make sense one of her children could possess such a name. 2. Well, the second reason is because I know eventually I'd end up confusing myself if all I referred to her as was "she" and "princess". Okay...end of sidenote. Um, hope you enjoyed this chapter...


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

A loud shot rang out through the morning air causing the old butler to startle. The platter of breakfast he was carrying clattered in union with his jump and he sighed.

"That blasted chef must have lost another of his poultry." Shaking his head, he silently opened a door to the princess' room, closed it, and set down the tray.

He slowly looked about the dark room only to rest his gaze on the sleeping masses under the bed sheets. As per his ritual he slowly opened up the curtains allowing light to filter in.

"My," he sighed. "What a pitiable scene. Once again you seem to prefer wasting away in that bed rather than enjoying another beautiful morning." Shaking his head he opened another.

Stirring under the sheets the princess slowly uncovered her head, her ice-green eyes drowsed and glaring at the offending light.

"Go away, Jasper." Syeira groaned, turning over onto her side.

He chuckled softly opening the last set of curtains.

"Come now, get up my lady, and greet the day." He reasoned as he slowly approached the bed.

"Shut up…" she moaned turning over to the other side away from him. "It's too early to greet anything…"

Jasper let out another soft chuckle and slowly placed his hand upon the covers, ignoring her. "Allow me to wake your sleeping companion at least." With that he pulled the covers down uncovering both her and the slobbering canine resting peacefully beside her. Kain looked up at him and panted letting his tongue flop out. "What regal bearing…" the old butler remarked placing his hands on his hips as he watched the dog jump lazily to the floor.

They stared each other down as the princess sat up and rubbed her eyes, watching the sight. A small giggle escaped her lips as she watched the old man's lips purse before he gave a heavy sigh and kneeled down petting the Alsatian. Taking this as her cue she slid out of bed, her bed shirt lifting slightly. Yawning she scratched her slim stomach and pulled the shirt down.

"What a pair…we're all doomed should we fall under your rule." He remarked looking between Kain and Syeira.

"Hah, at least it'll be one hell of a ride!" She chortled with a grin.

"Is that any way for a princess to speak?" Jasper sighed as he walked over to the platter and began to set out everything upon the table.

Ignoring his remark she ambled towards to the table and sat down in one of the fine chairs, pulling a leg up to rest on the seat with her, the other dangling off. She picked at the biscuits on her plate and stared absently at the dying embers of last night's fire. As she did this Jasper prepared two outfits for her, naturally he was explaining the day's schedule however she didn't pay any attention to him, as she was too captivated by the glowing cinders.

"…Elliot…"

"Hmm," she turned her head instantly to Jasper at the mention of her love's name. "What about Elliot?"

He stared at her blinking slightly, the look on his face nearly comical. Heaving another sigh he turned his back to her hiding the small smile that was etching its way onto his lips.

"I said that he's waiting for you out in the garden."

"What?!" She shot up and instantly grabbed the more practical outfit of the two and quickly ran behind the dressing screen.

After fumbling with the outfit in her hastened dressing, she darted out the door her hair loosely braided and no makeup upon her face. Jasper watched her do so with a small smile before recalling her elder brother and quickly headed to the door and called out.

"Mind your brother, Lady Syeira. He's in one of his moods again."

"Thanks, Jasper!" She hollered back, already down the first set of stairs and waved up at him before turning and barely able to avoid one of the nobles perusing the garden. "Oh! Sorry!"

The nobleman bowed to her and tells her it's quite alright before he watched her dart around to the back of the garden. Once Elliot came into her field of vision she stopped running and bent over trying to catch her breath. Kain barked and ran around her multiple times before darting over to Elliot and jumped up on his chest giving him wet kisses. The princess laughed watching them both before straightening and walking over. Elliot knelt down and began speaking softly to the canine while patting him affectionately.

"You'll help me keep her safe, won't you boy?" Elliot chuckled as he stood and faced the woman he loves.

"Are you two talking about me?" Syeira cocked an eyebrow and stood with her hip jutted out a hand resting on it, a stance she made popular with continued use.

"Perhaps…" he smiled at her as he looked her over; to him she was the most beautiful creature he had ever beheld. Not that he would dare say this to her, she would most likely laugh and punch him in the arm. He pushed the humorous, if slightly painful, thought from his mind and continued to gaze at her. He noted she wasn't going to budge until he admitted it, sighing he gave her a small smile. "You know it's about you…it always will be…"

"I can take care of myself, you know." She stated placing her other hand on her hips as well.

"Hmm, you know I think you'll have to prove it to me somehow." Elliot gave her a wily smile.

Chuckling, the princess slowly approached him until they were only inches apart. She gazed up at him, being far shorter than he…a trait, Walter had told her, she had apparently inherited from her father. For a silent moment they shared a loving gaze before Syeira lightly placed a hand upon his chest and stood up on her tiptoes, her other hand going to the back of his neck, as she laid a tender kiss on his lips. His arms wrapped about her small frame and loosely held her to him. After several long seconds they reluctantly pulled apart from one another.

"Well?" She asked once again using her favorite posture, a slight smirk on her lips.

"Hmmm," he put his hand on his chin grinning. "That won't much help in a battle, though it'd probably stun your enemies if you tried." Elliot chuckled before heaving a heavy sigh and looking at her. His smile faded, a serious expression took its place. "I assume Jasper told you I wished to speak to you…"

It wasn't necessarily a question, still she nodded giving him a worried glance; they both knew each other well enough to tell when the other was troubled.

"What's wrong? Did…did something happen?" She was standing straight now, the smirk having faded and her hands beginning to fidget with the hem of her skirt.

"I don't know for sure." Elliot once again placed his hand on his chin his eyes revealing he was in deep thought before looking at her. "It's your brother…"

"What about Logan? What's going on?"

"They're saying that one of the factory workers was executed this morning." Turning his back to her, he walked over to the garden's stone railing and jumped up looking out over Bowerstone. "I'm sure it's only a rumor…" he tried to make it sound convincing but even he could hear the doubt laced heavily amongst the words. She heard it, but could only manage to look down at her feet, not sure herself. "People are beginning to talk and the staff in the castle is troubled," he continued and turned his head, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. "They're frightened and I'm afraid of what may happen if their fears aren't quelled." Jumping down he stood in front of her and lifted her chin giving her a reassuring smile. "I had hoped that you would speak with them."

She looked away from him, pulling her chin from his grasp and stared out uncertain, as if contemplating the matter. The people were kind to her and in return she was good to them; however, even she feared speaking on her brother's behalf. Making promises she wasn't sure she could keep, or subduing fears that she herself possessed made her seem a hypocrite…it all made her stomach churn; especially when she recalled how her mother didn't particularly favor hypocrites, liars, and chicken kickers. 'But I have to do something…' she thought biting her lip slightly and looked at him again.

"I will…if you think it may help…"

"Yes, though they're apprehensive towards Logan, they still care deeply about you." Elliot stated with a nod before holding out his hand to her. "Will you let me escort you to the castle? They're all waiting for you in the kitchen."

Without saying a word she took his hand and let him lead her off. Normally she'd be the one pulling him along; however, her mind was plagued with leaden thoughts. Could Logan possibly allow a worker to be executed? Or was it Reaver's doing? What could the worker have done to incite such a rash and merciless punishment? With each question she grew disheartened. Slowly they passed the statue of the king and she peered at it as they did. Her head turning gradually to keep her eyes fixed upon the stone austere face of her elder brother.

'He wouldn't fall so far…would he?'

A slight squeeze of her hand and she peered quickly at Elliot, who indicated before her with a nod of his head. Turning and looking she saw they were standing in the doorway to the kitchen, the staff watching the two silently. Walking forward her hand slipped from Elliot's and she gazed softly at the people before her.

"Listen," she began her tone authoritative before becoming gentle and diplomatic. "I know you have all been through some difficult times, and the king has been too…preoccupied to treat you as he should. But I ask you all to ignore any wild rumors you hear. I promise to speak with my brother about improving conditions for both you and your families outside the castle. Thank you…" Syeira finished by peering at them all, but quickly looked away too afraid they may see the doubt that was burrowing its way into her heart.

"You call that a royal speech?!" A voice rang out from the foot of the staircase.

The boisterous voice broke her from her dampened thoughts and she smiled at the figure who stood with his arms crossed and a slight grin on his lips.

"Walter."

"You didn't shout. You didn't threaten. And you were far too reasonable." He let out a hearty laugh. "It was bloody marvelous." Winking at her slightly to indicate how proud he was he then turned around. "Right, ready for today's training?"

Elliot waved goodbye to her and smiled softly before departing.

"If I say no can we skip training and go straight to the snacks?" She asked attempting a grin as she followed after him.

"No." He chuckled as he walked beside her. Glancing down he caught the solemn look that had begun to form in her eyes and sighed. "I suppose, you've heard about the rumor…I'm afraid to tell you that it's true."

Her heart sank deeper.

"C-could Reaver have had something to do with it?" Syeira questioned not allowing herself to hope.

"Hmmm…possibly, but we both know that your brother isn't the easiest person to manipulate. That aside, it was only a matter of time with how he's been acting."

Nodding, she continued to follow him in silence, her stride slowing slightly as she grew lost in thought. She ignored the prattle of people who stood waiting to have an audience with his majesty, tuning out all their complaints and whispers. Suddenly she ran into Walter, her gut slammed against his tankard and she stumbled back grabbing her abdomen. Wincing she gazed up to see that he had stopped to speak with a petitioner.

"You alright?" The old soldier asked softly as he adjusted the tankard attached to his belt.

"Y-yeah." She nodded and gave him a slight grin before turning her attention to the petitioner.

"Like I said, I doubt my name would make much of a difference. However, if you're trying to eradicate poverty on our streets then maybe the princess can be of some help." Walter looked down at the young woman, the petitioner's gaze following his.

"It'd be the greatest honor, y-your majesty." The man stuttered, either due to the awe of having met with the princess face-to-face, or because she was the sister of a man whom he greatly feared.

"I'd be glad to sign." She remarked taking the petition from him and writing down her name. 'Every little bit helps…right?'

The petitioner thanked her enthusiastically and Walter laughed softly as he began to walk again.

"That was a brave move. Nothing will probably come of it, but maybe your brother will finally realize you have a mind of your own."

"You mean he hasn't already? And I was trying so hard." She gave a soft distant chuckle and tried to smile convincingly even though they both knew her heart wasn't in it.

He chuckled with her before placing a hand on her shoulder. "If it makes you feel any better, Sye, we can still blame it on Reaver. I'm sure the slippery git had some part in it."

She chuckled, a bit more truly this time. Blaming everything on Reaver always cheered her up. It gave her a means to vent out anger; when it was his smug mug she imagined slicing at in training, she hardly missed a beat. Even though she knew he couldn't really manipulate Logan into doing something he'd never do…if he had shot the worker first then maybe all Logan was guilty of was pardoning the narcissistic bastard. At least that's what she hoped for. Still the thought cheered her somewhat and she felt ready to continue on.

"Thanks, Walter…" a genuine smile came to her lips and she nodded to the old warrior.

"Now, you've been making a great deal of progress these past few weeks-"

"That's probably because you've been having me train every single day nonstop for those past few weeks." She grinned as she slowly approached the weapon rack and looked over the swords displayed on it.

"Yes well, we're not training today…I want you to fight me." Walter's tone was serious as he watched the young woman turn slowly and look at him with slight confusion. "I have to see if you're ready…"

"Ready for wha-"

"Now," he unsheathed his blade. "FIGHT ME!" With that he lunged at her.

Adrenaline kicking in, along with an immense fear of being struck down, Syeira's hand grabbed the first sword her hand came in contact with and blocked his attack. Sparks flew from the clashing of their blades, the clanging of swords echoed throughout the large hall as she staggered back against the wall from the force of the blow.

"W-walter?! What are-"

"Fight like your life depends on it!" He lunged once more towards her.

A fleeing instinct took hold and she rolled out of the way and back onto her feet. Panting slightly she took a battle stance. If Walter wanted her to fight like she meant it, then so be it. She charged at him, her sword meeting his. He chuckled lightly and grinned nodding as he pushed her back.

"That's it!" He chimed as he barely blocked her next blow. "Do you remember the stories I used to tell you when you were younger? About your mother, the great Hero Queen Sparrow?" As he questioned her she landed a blow on his shoulder. 'She's gotten faster…good.' Their blades resonated again as he blocked her once more and pushed her back swinging his sword down about to clip her shoulder when she danced out of the way and countered with a thrust to his side. He felt the sword rip through the fabric of his coat and shirt, the cold of the blade causing him to shiver as it slid past his skin. 'Heh, a bit too close that one…' He watched as she barely nodded to his questions removing her blade from his clothing and swinging it at him again. "You'd never get tired of hearing them." Blocking another blow he forced her back against the table knocking over the bust that sat idly upon it. The sound of the crashing stone upon the floor did not deter the fighters; instead it seemed to coax them onward. "And after each one, do you remember what you'd say?" She lunged at him her blade coming down to his head meeting his blade with a loud clamor.

"Teach me," she grinned, as a small bead of sweat rolled down her temple, "how to be a hero…"

"Every single time." He stated with a chuckle and whirled his fist at her, aiming for her gut. Her eyes widened slightly and she jumped back panting heavily staring at him. "If only that was something an old soldier like me could teach you. This was the best I could do…" he stood and stared at her, panting a bit as well. "Now it's time for you to do your best. Strike me!" Walter waited his sword at his side ready to block when need be. She stared at him dumbstruck. She was already giving it her best, what more could he possibly want? "Come on; strike me as hard as you can!" His eyes narrowed. "What are you waiting for? Hit me!" He cried out never letting her out of his sight. She heaved and charged at him striking his sword. "Is that all you've got?! Make it count! Strike me!" She jumped back panting still and stared at him before attempting it again only to be pushed back by him. "Those blows are too weak! What are you afraid of?! Hit me!"

Her mind went blank, her body rigid, as a distant memory began to surface.

"_My, my, those blows are far too weak. How can you ever hope to even hurt me with such poor strength?" He gave a soft chuckle as he taunted her, his chocolate brown eyes boring into her._

"_B-be silent!" The young princess yelled as her twelve year-old hands gripped the hilt of her blade tighter._

_He chuckled again, quite amused with her angered expression and vigor, and leaned against his cane, his choice weapon for this little scrap._

"_What are you afraid of?"_

"_W-who said I'm afraid!" Syeira stomped her foot and looked at him indignantly._

"_Why you must certainly be afraid, my princess," he took a few steps and quickly closed the space between them. A gloved hand reached out and took the young girl's chin between its thumb and forefinger. "You're trembling." Reaver's eyes narrowed but the smirk, which he had kept glued to his lips, only grew._

_She was forced to stare into those eyes she hated so much, forced to realize that she was indeed trembling. She wanted to cry out, to slap him into next week, but she restrained herself and just stared at him loathingly, she couldn't let him know he was right._

"_It's out of anger!" Syeira sneered pulling her face from his grasp._

"_Is that so?" He replied with mock surprise as he kept his proximity to her. "Prove it, my little princess." The man teased. "Show me how terribly angry you are." A low sultry chuckle escaped his lips as he continued to stare at her._

"_W-what?" She looked at him taking a step back her eyes catching his hand edging ever slowly to his gun holster._

_Letting out another sultry chuckle he grabbed his gun and pressed it to her temple as he backed her against the wall his other hand pressed on the wall, his cane between it and his hand as he leaned over giving her a menacing smirk. "Well princess? I'm waiting…hit me." He whispered in her ear, cocking his gun. Syeira shivered from the warmth of his breath against her neck and ear, and her body trembled more as fear gripped every part of her. She could smell the wine on his breath, for some reason it began to calm her. The scent of grapes mixed with spices and a faint hint of leather and wood, it smelled exactly like the port wine her mother would drink on special occasions when she was little. The port Walter drank when he wanted to remember the good times. And the very wine Logan seemed to have an affinity for. She knew its name by heart for she had promised herself she'd try some once she was old enough. __**Any Port in a Storm**__. It sent electricity through her body and made her frown, to think he drinks the same port wine all those she cares about personally enjoy. He chuckled, his smirk growing smugger if possible. "Times up…" In that instant she grasped her blade tighter and swung it, the blade barely cutting the leather of his holster. He jumped back and looked down at it on the floor the gun not once lowering. "What spunk, what spirit…surely you would have made a great conquest, it's a pity you didn't do that sooner though."_

_The newfound calm and anger cleared her mind for a moment and she charged him seeing his finger beginning to pull the trigger. Syeira barely took two steps before a shot rang out. She stopped and stood trembling, her eyes squeezed tightly shut waiting to fall to the ground, for the pain to hit her hard and make her breath cease._

"_Ack!" There it was the searing pain, but it wasn't where she expected. Out of reflex her hand gripped her arm, the bullet had grazed it, deep enough to bleed and hurt like hell but not enough to even pose a threat. Slowly she let her eyes open wide, and peered up at him anger bubbling up inside her mixed with traces of confusion._

"_Don't look so shocked,__my little princess__,__" his expression smoldering, his eyes flickering with something she's never seen before, but in an instant it all disappeared and was replaced with ego, his usual smug grin accompanying it. "I know better than to kill the sister to the king of Albion. I quite enjoy our business relationship and I do believe that would cease to exist if I happen to even mar that pretty little face of yours. It distresses me to think what he'd do if I actually did kill you." He watched with glee as she slumped over and fell to her knees. Hot tears streamed down her face and her body shivered as her wounded arm finally released the blade. "Admit it, princess, you do not have what it takes to win a real battle. Though it pains me to say it, it was something your mother excelled in, better than me in some cases. She refused to give into death, to pain, she had no fear of them and that made her charge head-on into battle. No matter how many times she was shot, stabbed, or sent flying back, she got right back up and simply refused to give in. I'm quite sure Death himself would've given up trying to take her had it not been for-"_

"_Sh-shut up!" The scream escaped her lips before she could stop herself. She hated when he spoke of her mother, because he almost always mentioned her death._

_He slowly made his way over to her, unfazed by her outburst as he had coaxed many a similar one out of her in the past; with a small devious grin he stood before her leaning against his cane looking down on her. "You are too afraid to die, little princess, too afraid to experience true pain, and so long as those fears have you in their suffocating grasp…you will never win." The cane came up and looked about to strike her, she flinched and watched as it tilted his hat and he smirked more. She had proven his point, even if it was unconsciously. "Well, as much as I'd like to stay and teach you more lessons and the like, I should return. Bowerstone Industrial does not run itself." Chuckling, he turned and began to saunter off. "Tatty-bye." He called out to her._

_Syeira struggled through her trembles to stand; when she finally did she screamed out at him again._

"_Reaver! I promise…I promise I will beat you! I'll show you!"_

_Reaver turned his head slightly giving her a leered glance, a chocolate-brown orb piercing into her._

"_Such hollow words, however, I do look forward to seeing you attempt as much." And with that he walked back into the castle leaving her out in the garden trembling in anger…and fear._

She snapped from her thoughts as Walter called out another taunt and anger boiled within her. All she could see was Reaver's face grinning and gloating before her. Tightening her grip on her sword she lunged spinning around and flourishing. The sound of metal falling to the ground made her look up and she was shocked to see that Walter's blade had been sliced through.

"Ha-ha! You've only gone and broke it!" He looked from the blade to her. "Am I good teacher or what?" He chuckled.

"I'm sorry I didn't-"

Walter held up his hand and smiled warmly at her, giving her another wink, silently telling her it was alright. She nodded and straightened staring at him. He continued to smile his features becoming softer and more serious as the moment passed.

"Listen, there's somethin-"

At this moment the doors were pushed pen open with a thunderous slam and both looked over to see Elliot panting heavily.

"Elliot, what's wrong?" Syeira quickly made her way over to him.

"There's a crowd gathering inside the castle grounds! I think…I think it's a demonstration!" He straightened and grabbed her hand looking from her to Walter. "Come see for yourselves!" With that he ran off dragging the princess with him.

"Balls. This isn't good…"

* * *

Disclaimer: Fable III belongs to Lionhead Studios and Peter Molyneux respectively.

Sidenote: It's been a really really long time. And I apologize for that. I had lost the notebook I had written this chapter in, and only recently found the thing while cleaning out some old boxes a week or so ago. Again sorry!


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